The master was silent. Had this dull, narrow-minded partisan stumbled upon a truth that had never dawned upon his own broader comprehension? Had this selfish savage and literally red-handed frontier brawler been moved by some dumb instinct of the power of gentleness to understand his daughters needs better than he? For a moment he was staggered. Then he thought of Cressys later flirtations with Joe Masters, and her concealment of their meeting from her mother. Had she deceived her father also? Or was not the father deceiving him with this alternate suggestion of threat and of kindlinessof power and weakness. He had heard of this cruel phase of Southwestern cunning before. With the feeble sophistry of the cynic he mistrusted the good his scepticism could not understand. Howbeit, glancing sideways at the slumbering savagery of the man beside him, and his wounded hand, he did not care to show his lack of confidence. He contented himself with that equally feeble resource of weak humanity in such casesgood-natured indifference. All right, he said carelessly; Ill see what can be done. But are you quite sure you are fit to go home alone? Shall I accompany you? As McKinstry waived the suggestion with a gesture, he added lightly, as if to conclude the interview, Ill report progress to you from time to time, if you like.
To ME, emphasized McKinstry; not over THAR, indicating the ranch. But prhaps you wouldnt mind my ridin by and lookin in at the school-room winder onct in a while? Ahyou WOULD, he added, with the first deepening of color he had shown. Well, never mind.
You see it might distract the children from their lessons, explained the master gently, who had however contemplated with some concern the infinite delight which a glimpse of McKinstrys fiery and fatuous face at the window would awaken in Johnny Filgees infant breast.
Well, no matter! returned McKinstry slowly. Ye dont keer, I spose, to come over to the hotel and take suthin? A julep or a smash?
I shouldnt think of keeping you a moment longer from Mrs. McKinstry, said the master, looking at his companions wounded hand. Thank you all the same. Good-by.
They shook hands, McKinstry transferring his rifle to the hollow of his elbow to offer his unwounded left. The master watched him slowly resume his way towards the ranch. Then with a half uneasy and half pleasurable sense that he had taken some step whose consequences were more important than he would at present understand, he turned in the opposite direction to the school-house. He was so preoccupied that it was not until he had nearly reached it that he remembered Uncle Ben. With an odd recollection of McKinstrys previous performance, he approached the school from the thicket in the rear and slipped noiselessly to the open window with the intention of looking in. But the school-house, far from exhibiting that kam and studious abstraction which had so touched the savage breast of McKinstry, was filled with the accents of youthful and unrestrained vituperation. The voice of Rupert Filgee came sharply to the masters astonished ears.
You neednt try to play off Dobell or Mitchell on MEyou hear! Much YOU know of either, dont you? Look at that copy. If Johnny couldnt do better than that, Id lick him. Of course its the penit aint your stodgy fingersoh, no! Praps youd like to hev a few more boxes o quills and gold pens and Gillotts best thrown in, for two bits a lesson? I tell you what! Ill throw up the contract in another minit! There goes another quill busted! Look here, what YOU want aint a pen, but a clothes-pin and a split nail! Thatll about jibe with your dilikit gait.
The master at once stepped to the window and, unobserved, took a quick survey of the interior. Following some ingenious idea of his own regarding fitness, the beautiful Filgee had induced Uncle Ben to seat himself on the floor before one of the smallest desks, presumably his brothers, in an attitude which, while it certainly gave him considerable elbow-room for those contortions common to immature penmanship, offered his youthful instructor a superior eminence, from which he hovered, occasionally swooping down upon his grown-up pupil like a mischievous but graceful jay. But Mr. Fords most distinct impression was that, far from resenting the derogatory position and the abuse that accompanied it, Uncle Ben not only beamed upon his persecutor with unquenchable good humor, but with undisguised admiration, and showed not the slightest inclination to accept his proposed resignation.
Go slow, Roop, he said cheerfully. You was onct a boy yourself. Natrally I kalkilate to stand all the damages. Youve got ter waste some powder over a blast like this yer, way down to the bed rock. Next time Ill bring my own pens.
Do. Some from the Dobell school you uster go to, suggested the darkly ironical Rupert. They was iron-clad injin-rubber, warnt they?
Never you mind wot they were, said Uncle Ben good-humoredly. Look at that string of Cs in that line. Theres nothing mean about THEM.
He put his pen between his teeth, raised himself slowly on his legs, and shading his eyes with his hand from the severe perspective of six feet, gazed admiringly down upon his work. Rupert, with his hands in his pockets and his back to the window, cynically assisted at the inspection.
Wots that sick worm at the bottom of the page? he asked.
Wot might you think it wos? said Uncle Ben beamingly.
Looks like one o them snake roots you dig up with a little mud stuck to it, returned Rupert critically.
Thats my name.
They both stood looking at it with their heads very much on one side. It aint so bad as the rest youve done. It MIGHT be your name. That ez, it dont look like anythin else, suggested Rupert, struck with a new idea that it was perhaps more professional occasionally to encourage his pupil. You might get on in course o time. But what are you doin all this for? he asked suddenly.
Doin what?
This yer comin to school when you aint sent, and you aint got no call to goyou, a grown-up man!
The color deepened in Uncle Bens face to the back of his ears. Wot would you giv to know, Roop? Spose I reckoned some day to make a strike and sorter drop inter saciety easyeh? Spose I wanted to be ready to keep up my end with the other fellers, when the time kem? To be able to sling potry and read novels and sicheh?
An expression of infinite and unutterable scorn dawned in the eyes of Rupert. You do? Well, he repeated with slow and cutting deliberation, Ill tell you what youre comin here for, and the only thing that makes you come.